Feral for you
by blddmn
Summary: Growing increasingly frustrated over the situation with Juliette, Nick finds himself turning to an unlikely source of comfort in these hard times. What happens from there? Read to find out... Starts at S2E6 "over my dead body" with some crucial changes. Nick/Angelina.
1. Snake and a Plane

**Disclaimer**

I do not own any of the characters or situations associated with Grimm. Grimm belongs to NBC and I am merely a devoted fan who wishes to keep a favoured character alive in a work of fanfiction.

**Summary**

Growing increasingly frustrated over the situation with Juliette, Nick finds himself turning to an unlikely source of comfort in these hard times. What happens from there? Read to find out... Starts at S2E6 "over my dead body" with some crucial changes. Nick/Angelina.

**Author's note**

For the sake of keeping this as a teen rating most (if not all) swearing will be done in German. I don't speak German myself so you have Google to thank for the quality of translations. If you can't remember a character or type of Wesen then it's probably a good idea to check the Grimm wiki page. As the start of this story is based largely off the episode "**over my dead body**" a lot of the dialogue and situations will be similar if not the same in parts of the story. Also, a few OCs with minor roles (I needed more villains) will be introduced throughout the story. So without further ado, enjoy…

…~oOo~…

**Chapter One – Snake and a Plane**

As the private jet prepared for the decent into Portland, Mia Gaudot once again went over her plan with the five men in the cabin with her.

"Once we touch down, I will make two calls," she watched them carefully making sure they knew by heart their roles in her plan. "Once I get Captain Renard out of the way, I'll call our Portland contact and have him get rid of the Grimm's pet Blutbad. Without the Captain able to watch over him, and the Blutbad out of the way, you will be able to…" she elongated the 'oo' sound, turning it into a question.

"Subdue the Grimm," Sieghard, a Steinadler in his mid-thirties, answered. He would be leading three of the four other men in their task to capture the Grimm. "We go to the police station while you have the Captain engaged and find out where the Grimm is located. From there it is a simple matter of getting into his house and subduing him."

"Excellent," her lips slid into a wicked smile. "And once you have him? Wulfram?"

"We take him to the safe house and… inquire as to where he keeps the key," answered the Hundjäger.

"_Und_ then we end him," concluded Markus, the second Hundjäger. Both of the dog like Wesen had a penchant for violence, as could be attested by the families of dead resistance members back in Europe. Mia was hoping that Sieghard would be able to keep them in line for long enough to get what they needed from the Grimm before killing him.

"And what will you do, Dave?" she asked the final member of the team to take on the Grimm.

Dave the Hexenbiest was the only non-German member of the Grimm hunting expedition and had, by far, the least intimidating name in history. Born in England, he had made a name for himself as a master brewer of potions, be they benevolent or malevolent in nature. When Verrat had contracted him as a potions master for the Royals, he had swiftly proven himself to be adept at the manufacture and application of interrogation potions, both for the torture and talking aspects such work entailed.

"I feed him a few potions to make sure he tells the truth. Then I just step back and let the poodles do their work," he grinned at the two Hundjägers and leant back in his chair.

"_Fick dich, Fotze_!" shouted out Markus as Wulfram jumped up, growling, while phasing into his Wesen form.

"Enough!" Mia barked out. Next to her, her bodyguard had surreptitiously pulled out his firearm, ready to deal with the Wesen if they got out of hand. "You can hate each other when we're back in Europe. Until then, you will devote yourselves entirely to the task you have been given." The Wesen, minus Sieghard, looked at each other embarrassedly.

"By the end of tomorrow night we will have the key in our possession and will have shown these Americans not stand against the Verrat; Grimm or no." She finished just as the jet landed on the tarmac (the jolt of which caused the still standing Wulfram to fall over, "_Scheißer!_").

When they came to a stop, Mia's bodyguard went forward and opened up the cabin door, allowing her to descend the steps onto American soil. As her feet touched the ground, she pulled out her mobile phone. 'I suppose I shall have to call it a _cell_ now that I'm in this place,' she thought to herself.

Selecting the contact she needed to talk to, she pushed the call button and held the phone to her ear. After only two rings, she heard a familiar voice answer, "Yeah?"

"Hello, my sweet," she spoke into the receiver, a slight smile playing on her lips.

"Who is this?" the questioning tone was soft, not accusatory or confused. He had a good idea of who it was that was calling him. He just wanted to confirm his suspicions.

"Don't tell me you've forgotten the sound of my voice," Mia pouted.

In his office, Sean Renard allowed himself a moment of satisfaction at both confirming his suspicions and getting one up on the uppity woman. 'Best not upset her too much, I may be able to get something out of this.' "I could never forget anything about you."

"I thought, maybe you were still upset about Vienna," her voice held a lilt of sarcasm, _Of course_ he was still upset about Vienna!

"Now how could anyone be upset about Vienna?" he relied smoothly. Inside he felt a twinge of annoyance; that cow had 'accidently' let it slip to his brother that he had appropriated some highly classified Verrat documents. If it hadn't been for the fact that his Royal status had kept him from being executed for treason (and the fact that Mia was smoking hot) he would have torn her head of there and then.

"I'd like to make it up to you," she said, seductively. He knew she was manipulating him, and she knew he was trying to manipulate her, but it wouldn't be for an assassination attempt; she was too high up in the Verrat for him to try anything like that without repercussions.

"I'd like you to make it up to me too," he replied, his voice growing silkier by the second.

"It just so happens that I'm on my way back from Tokyo. Thought I'd stop by," she said as she settled into her car, her bodyguard was in the passenger seat and the driver had just started the engine. Behind the car, the four Wesen were walking purposefully towards a black Range Rover that had been left there for them.

"I'm staying at the Deluxe," she continued before hanging up on hiim, leaving him to stew in the dilemma he was now in. She knew that right now, the impulsive male part of him would be screaming at him to head over to the Deluxe and have revenge/make-up sex with her, while the conniving schemer in him would be telling him to see her and try to manipulate her feelings for him into something he could use. The final part, the part that was still wounded by her betrayal, would be telling him to stay as far away from her as possible (she knew that part would inevitably lose).

True to form, several miles away Captain Sean Renard leant back in his chair and exhaled a long, frustrated breath, "Well what the hell should I do now?" he mumbled to himself.

Back in the car, Mia dialled a new number as soon as she hung up on Renard. After only a single ring it was answered by a man with a deep, strongly accented voice.

"Arbok," she said to the Königschlange, "We're in Portland. Have the body ready within the next thirty six hours."

She hung up the phone, knowing that her contact here in Portland would get the job done.

…~oOo~…

A few hours later found detectives Nick Burkhardt and Hank Griffin finishing up in the office after a relatively calm day at they hadn't met any Wesen, been around any murderers, nor even seen a dead body. The most serious thing that happened for them was to catch a pair of idiots who had tried robbing the diner they were in at lunch, the second the word 'police' left Hank's mouth, the wannabe criminals had surrendered. Needless to say, those idiots were now languishing in the holding cells.

"Man, I love days like this," Hank said as he pulled on his jacket, "no-body trying to kill us, and we can even finish work on time. It's nice when the most dangerous thing around here is the paperwork."

"Yeah," Nick agreed wholeheartedly as he pulled on his own jacket, "not having to worry about our lives really takes a lot of stress out of the job."

"Speak for yourselves," Wu grumbled as he walked past them, "I have Internal Affairs all over my ass about shooting Mrs Stanton a couple of weeks ago."

"Yeah, I remember that," Nick nods, "Nasty business. How come that's still not cleared up?"

"The amount of shots fired," Wu said, ticking off one finger, "that I was the only person there so they had to make sure it wasn't an unlawful killing," he ticked off the second, "oh, and the bucket load of paperwork that accompanies the other two," he ticked of his third finger.

"Man, that sucks," Hank acknowledged.

"Tell me about it!" Wu shot them a mock glare, "I bet the recent lack of murders gave you guys plenty of time to catch up on that paperwork."

"Right in one," Hank grinned back.

"Yeah, well sod you guys," Wu said brightly back at them as he turned to leave, "I'm gonna split, gotta get todays paperwork started."

Following Wu's departure from the scene, Nick and Hank heading down to the parking lot where they said their goodbyes for the night and headed off, Nick stopping on the way home to pick up a burger and some fries (he didn't want to make Juliette feel uncomfortable by showing up expecting dinner).

Opening up his front door, Nick's olfactory senses were assaulted by the delightful smell of Juliette's cooking. Letting out a wistful sigh and glancing down sadly down at his fast food meal, he headed through to the kitchen.

Walking into the kitchen doorway, he couldn't help but smile at the sight of his de-facto girlfriend milling around with her oven mitts and apron on. This led to a brief foray into a memory of when she had _just_ been wearing said apron on Valentine's day a couple of years ago, the two of them had been baking cookies and he had playfully smeared her with some-

'Enough of that thought!' Nick chastised himself as he snapped back into the present, '_damn_, if that's not a sign of sexual frustration, I don't know what is.'

He knocked on the door, partially to let Juliette know he was there and partially to give him something to do other than dwell on his (lack of) sex life.

"Something smells good," he said amicably, a slight smile gracing his face.

"I hope so," she smiled back. Then catching sight of the brown paper bag clutched in his hand, she dropped her left hand in a mock accusing gesture, "what's in the bag?"

He lifted up the bag, looking at it with a sort of mild hatred, then with clearly forced enthusiasm said, "It's burger and fries."

"Well get rid of it," she smirked, causing Nick's stomach to leap in hope of a good, home cooked meal.

Remembering (with a slight sense of disappointment) the reason for his getting said burger and fries earlier, he tried to go the gallant route, "Oh, no, I don't want to intrude." He waved off her order as she moved over to the suddenly beeping oven.

"You can't intrude if you're invited," she retorted gamely. "I made one of your favourites."

When she pulled the lid off the steaming dish, he felt his eyes widen in shock and only just managed to prevent his mouth from falling open. Swiftly discarding the now useless brown paper bag containing the unwanted burger and fries he stepped into the kitchen.

"Chicken cilantro tagine!" his mind was racing with the implications of her remembering his favourite dish, as well as the fact that the _best_ food known to man was now sitting on the kitchen counter. Honestly, the way Juliette made chicken cilantro tagine was simply orgasmic…

'Again with the linking things to sex!' he moaned to himself. Realising it was best to say something before he started looking like some sort of idiot he voiced his hope that things would be back to normal, "you remembered?"

"Actually," she said hesitantly, fidgeting slightly, "I didn't, but 'Nick loves' was written on the recipe with my hand writing. So I thought it might be a good call." She allowed herself a slight, breathy laugh at the end.

Nick fought to hide the disappointment.

"You know, I may never remember who you were," clearly she had noticed his internal struggle. "But, I'd like to get to know who you are. So, I figure this would be a good place to start." At that point, Nick found his heart figuratively melting, forcing him to look away for a second to regain mastery over his emotions.

"What can I do to help?" he asked, feeling at the same time happy that she wanted to spend time with him, and sad over the brief glimmer of hope he had gotten only for it to be snatched away.

…~oOo~…

Not too far away, Monroe was preparing himself for a date with Rosalee that would be commencing in just less than ten minutes. He was running around the house, making sure that the pillows on the sofa were fluffed up _just so_, checking to make sure he didn't overcook the food, adjusting the various clocks and model trains that were scattered throughout the place to make sure they were neither overbearing nor obstructive, and of course, selecting what music should play during dinner.

He'd just got the wine out and made sure the food was ready ("_Magnifique_") when the doorbell rang. He smiled in both excitement and happiness as he went to answer the door, on the other side of which, was an equally happy and excited Fuchsbau.

…~oOo~…

Several miles away, at the end up bar, Angelina Lasser was dancing with a hulking great brute of a Skalengeck who had taken it upon himself to pay for her beers and snacks for the night.

She had him pegged from the moment she walked into the bar; a Blutbad's sense of smell is second to none, not even the infamous Hundjäger could boast the same level of olfactory ability. The huge man smelt of alcohol, sweat, and most notably; Skalengeck. This meant that his already diminished intellectual capacity (a characteristic common among the lizard Wesen) was even further reduced by his intoxication. In short, show him a bit of ass and he'd do what-ever she wanted.

The brute was clumsy and heavy handed, his not so subtle attempts at cupping her breasts were tolerated to the extent where she allowed him to cop a quick feel before she demurely brushed away the offending hand with a sultry smile. Her superhuman reflexes allowed her to easily step out of the way of the lizard's feet, had she been a human, her own feet would be well and truly crushed by now.

"Hey, how 'bout we get outta here?" the Skalengeck asked with a leer, his eyes flicking down towards her cleavage.

"How 'bout you buy me another drink?" she replied happily, grinning playfully up at him before turning around and walking towards the bar, swaying her hips in a way that would draw attention to her oft commented on posterior. Sniffing the air, she could tell the lizard was getting hornier by the second as he followed her, eyes most likely glued to her ass.

Picking up a new bottle at the bar, she started to knock it back as he grabbed his own, his eyes never leaving her for a second. His lust was evident in both his gaze and his scent.

"You're a pretty good dancer," he complimented her. From the genuine tone of his voice she could tell that he wasn't being ironic. He hadn't even noticed that she was Wesen. Something that any other Wesen worth their salt would have noticed the second they got close enough to smell her.

She just lifted an eyebrow and smirked at him. He took another swig of his drink.

"You know, I'm celebrating tonight," he said as he put his beer down, his expression turning from leery to serious. 'Here comes the proposition,' Angelina thought to herself. No way was she getting with a Skalengeck. She'd have to cut it short and leave. No need to make a scene.

"Oh yeah, what're you celebrating?" she asked, hoping to steer the conversation towards safer ground for when she makes her excuses to get away.

"Got a big job," he said simply, "You're the way I wanna celebrate." As if to emphasise his point his eyes dipped down for another look at her breasts. 'So much for moving it to safer ground,' she groaned inwardly.

"You've got a tight little ass, just the way I like it," the lizard continued, his attempt at flattery nearly making Angelina shiver in repulsion. Sure, she'd let him pay for her stuff and dance with him, but let him down _there_? No way!

"Wow," she said sardonically, her voice shifting from flirtatious to hard, "you expect a lot for three beers."

He looked offended, "And the chicken fingers," he sounded offended.

Realising that this wasn't going to get any better, 'and the chicken fingers… seriously?' Angelina decided to cut her losses and get out, "Alright look; before you get the wrong idea, I gotta go."

She grabbed her jacket and turned towards the exit, only to find the Skalengeck had moved to block said exit. He was towering over her, trying to appear all macho, not realising that the real predator here was standing right in front of him. She started sizing him up.

"Maybe it's you who gave me the wrong idea," he glared down at her for a moment. The two were at something of an impasse, she didn't want to cause a scene (not in the crowded bar anyway) and he just wanted to shag her brains out. It was a much needed relief when his phone started ringing.

"This is my gig," he explained, almost as if he was apologizing for cutting their glaring contest short, "I gotta take this."

"Thanks for the beer," she said loudly at the receiver as a parting shot. Walking away she slung on her jacket, "and the chicken fingers."

A few seconds after getting outside, she heard the tell-tale sound of boots on gravel accompanied by that now familiar Skalengeck stench that warned her that the hulking lizard was following her.

Slowing to a halt, she turned to face him, deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt and one last chance to walk away peacefully.

"You owe me," he growled out, his voice laced with lust and anger.

"Just cool it, alright," she held out her hand, slowing his advance, "let's not take this anyplace you'll regret." There, the get out clause, if he didn't take it then he deserves what he gets. She wasn't expecting him to take the hint. In fact, she was expecting him to make another awful attempt to seduce her.

What she wasn't expecting was for him to forcefully grab her arms and pull her towards him, "You just keep digging this whole deeper," his alcohol laced breath was hot on her face, overwhelming her sensitive nose, "I like that."

The kiss he pulled her into was hard, wet, and utterly unpleasant.

Knowing that he had the advantage at such close proximity, compliments of his superior physical size, she decided to play along long enough for her to make her move. 'Playing along with a guy trying to rape me…what the hell is wrong with me?'

"That's better," he bared his teeth, a very Skalengeck like gesture, the only way he could give it away more would be if he phased right now.

"Well if you like that," she said breathily, all the while moving her hand towards her bike helmet, "you're gonna love this."

Swiftly pivoting and swinging her arm forward, she caught the booze addled lizard right on the side of the head. The power she put into her swing sending the pervert straight to the ground with a loud thud.

Shuffling back on the ground, the Skalengeck phased into his Wesen form, hoping to terrify what he thought was a clueless little human girl with his bared teeth and feral hiss.

What he got instead was a vicious Blutbad leaping down on him, her arms pinning him to the ground with superhuman strength while her powerful jaws moved straight to his neck, going in for a fatal bite.

Clamping her jaws down on the scaly flesh, she sunk her fangs in deep, piercing the Jugular vein, Carotid artery, and the trachea. A few shakes and a pull later (the force of which tore off a good chunk of his face), and the Skalengeck was left dying on the floor, unable to breathe and rapidly bleeding out.

Getting up off the body, she quickly searched his pockets for anything that could be used to identify him (snagging a little cash along the way), and tossed both his phone and wallet into the undergrowth nearby.

"Well, that sorta makes us even," she said to the corpse as she started whipping blood off her face. The scent of Skalengeck coming from said blood was overwhelming her nose.

She was about to turn back to her bike, when a clicking noise right behind her head alerted her to the fact that she was not alone. Not only that, but she was in imminent danger of having her brains blasted out.

"Not with us it doesn't," said a voice behind her. A stream of vulgarities shot through Angelina's mind, 'trust my luck that the oaf had friends.'

Being grabbed from behind, the point of the gun lodged firmly between her shoulder-blades, she was pushed along by her mystery assailant towards a black SUV. Trying to sniff out the man behind her, she could still only smell Skalengeck. Whether this was because of the blood still on her face, or because the guy behind her was another lizard, she couldn't tell.

Opening the door, one of the rear doors, the man pushed her inside with a grunted, "Get in," before slamming the door closed and climbing in the front, all the while keeping his gun trained on her.

On the inside of the SUV sat another man, this one with the unmistakable smell of a snake, making him either a Lausenschlange or a Königschlange, both of which were fast, strong, and highly dangerous. The fact she could clearly smell him also confirmed her suspicion that the other guy was a Skalengeck.

"You've put me in a dilemma," said the snake-man, looking down imperiously at her. His attempt at intimidating her with both his proximity and his gunman was working, not that she'd show him of course. "You killed someone who was supposed to do a job for me."

"He was trying to rape me," she replied determinedly, sitting up straight and putting on her 'tough girl' face.

"Well you handled it rather well," snake-man said back, from his tone of voice she was unsure if he was being patronizing or admiring, "Makes me wonder if you've done it before," definitely patronizing.

"Am I wasting my time here?" she asked, not at all pleased with the way he was talking to her as well as eager to get out of the car, "'Cause I could just leave."

In a flash, the man had lunged forwards, taking her completely by surprise (although she didn't flinch an inch) and bringing his head mere inches from her own. His head phased into the scaly, fanged and hooded face of a Königschlange. The snake's tongue darted out; its hyper-sensitivity able to pick up the pump of blood that signified her heart rate, as well as her body temperature and God knows what else.

"Neat party trick," he growled out as he moved back, phasing back into his human form.

"You know, for someone acting so cool," he smirked down at her, "your pulse is a little quicker than it should be." Angelina merely glared back at him.

"You have three options," the Königschlange continued, undaunted by the angry Blutbad in front of him. "You die here. You do the job my guy was gonna do. Or we call 911, and report a murder."

If her pulse had been a little high before, by now it was sky rocketing. The way she saw it (and the way the Königschlange had undoubtedly meant it) her only option was to take the job. Dying and being locked in prison for the rest of her life had a complete lack of appeal for Angelina.

"Now I'm gonna cut you a break," the Königschlange said, his tone turning from condescending to amicable. "You do the same job, I'll pay you the same money."

That piqued her interest, "How much?"

"Ten up front, ten upon delivery."

"Fifteen on delivery," well she may as well try to make the most of a bad situation, "and what is it I'll be delivering?"

The Königschlange didn't say anything, instead he simply pulled out a small dossier and handed it to her. The sight of what was inside made her heart skip a beat and her blood run cold.

Looking up at her from within the file was a picture of Monroe.

Quickly regaining her composure she closed the file and put it in her jacket, "When do you want it done?"

"You've got 24 hours," the snake then nodded towards the Skalengeck in the front seat.

"Expect this to ring tomorrow evening," the lizard said, holding out a phone to her. "We'll tell you when and where to deliver."

She took the phone, pocketed it, and was about to demand the 10K and step out of the SUV when the Königschlange once again spoke.

"Now, you seem smart, so I shouldn't have to tell you; if you run, I'll find you." The threat was clear. Do it or die.

The snake then handed her an envelope containing the money, which she quickly rifled through, pulling out one at random to inspect it (making sure it was genuine). Satisfied that the money was legit (even if the job wasn't) she got out of the SUV, only one thought on her mind…

'I've got to warn Monroe!'

…~oOo~…

**A.N.** Alright then, I hope you enjoyed that for starters.

As I'm sure you're all aware, this is a fledgling fandom so any feedback will be VERY much appreciated.

Thanks for reading =).


	2. Uncomfortable Reunion

**Disclaimer**

Despite my best efforts to use the Force (property of Disney, formerly George Lucas), the sands of time (rights owned by Ubisoft), and even what I found written in The Standard Book of Spells; Grade Seven (as created by the illustrious JKRowling) to alter the very fabrics of creation… I still don't own Grimm (blasted NBC and their immunity to supernatural intervention!).

**Shout-outs**

Thank you so much for all of you who have supported this story so far with your comments, follows, and/or favourites! This chapter is dedicated to 'Olivia,' maxiefae, D Squirrel, Yaz-Haruno, Guardians of Courage, zamjill, tchutchu94, chakra213, byie, CS Copenhagen, and ThisMortalCoil.

**So far…**

Mia, a member of one of the seven Royal families, has arrived in Portland seemingly with the intent to kill Monroe and capture Detective Nick Burkhardt. Said detective is suffering from some serious sexual frustration, a situation not helped by the fact that he is living with the object of his desires, and has started to find his mind wandering towards sex at inopportune moments. Monroe is preparing for a nice sit down meal with Rosalee. Monroe's ex, Angelina, has survived an attempted rape (you go girl!) which had the odd downside of getting her an unwanted new job: to kill Monroe.

…~oOo~…

**Chapter Two – Uncomfortable Reunion**

Sitting at the table across from Sean Renard is always a test of ones nerves and composure, the man was quite literally the embodiment of confidence. To make matters worse, he had almost limitless patience (why do you think his family is so annoyed with him over the Grimm?) and was not above throwing his weight (both political and physical) around.

However, Mia had one advantage… Renard had no idea why she was in Portland, and that would infuriate him to no end; he was fiercely protective of his city.

"So," he started, having finished with the pleasantries and ready to get down to the matter at hand, "what was Tokyo about?"

"Family business," she replied simply.

"As in none of mine?" he questioned, calling her on her evasion.

"We have no secrets," her tone laced with only the slightest trace of irony.

He simply looked at her, a small smile gracing his face.

"Well, maybe a few. Let's just say that a certain foreign minister needed convincing that putting my family first was in his best interests."

"Politics," he muttered with false exasperation.

"You know," she paused to take a sip of wine, "your family is none too pleased with your behaviour of late. Something about a Grimm. And a key." The last was given with an intense and meaningful look.

"If Eric thinks that I'll allow his interference in this matter then he has another thing coming," Sean replied firmly.

"Is that why you killed your cousin?" she asked.

"He left me no other options," was the calm reply.

"And what about the Nuckelavee that was sent here?"

"I'm surprised you know about that," he said, although his body language told her that he was anything but. "As it happens, I had nothing to do with it; his body was found washed up not long ago. Forensic examination could find no leads but suggests that the man was killed by a blow to the head with a blunt object, most likely a hammer."

"You think your Grimm did it?"

"I think that the families should stay out of my business."

"But what about the key?"

"As I said," he graced her with a chilling smile, "my business."

…~oOo~…

Angelina pulled up on the sidewalk outside 418 Ravensview Drive, her head darting from side to side as she checked to make sure she could neither see nor smell any trace of Monroe's pet Grimm. The last thing she needed right now was that idiot Burkhardt to show up and attempt an arrest.

Satisfied that there was no Grimm in the immediate vicinity, she marched purposefully up to the door and with a flair of her Blutbad strength she slammed her shoulder into said door, swinging it open.

"We need to talk," she declared as she sighted him on the sofa. Noticing he had a companion she made an amendment, "and she needs to leave." The derision for Monroe's choice in female company was evident in her voice.

"Angelina?" he asked confusedly, jumping up from the sofa and leaving a disgruntled woman sitting there, eyes flicking between the two Bludbaden. "What are you-"

"I said we need to talk," she advanced menacingly, "now!"

"And just who are you meant to be?" piped up the sofa girl, clearly disgruntled at the woman entering her –_Is he her boyfriend_? – entering Monroe's home. Not to mention her blatant frustration at having her maybe boyfriend jump away from her as soon as another woman entered the room.

"Right back at you, sunshine," Angelina growled down at the smaller woman. Sniffing the air, she detected a fox-like scent permeating the room.

"A Fuchsbau, really?" she asked Monroe in exasperation.

"Don't you talk about Rosalee like that!" Monroe retorted, incensed at the slight against the woman who it appeared increasingly likely was in a relationship with the male Blutbad.

"Rosalee?" Angelina snapped back, "what a dainty little name for a dainty little creature. Not scared you'll break her in bed?"

"Enough!" shouted out the Fuchsbau in question, her voice surprisingly powerful for someone so small. "I don't know who you are, or why you're here. But I will not sit here and be discussed like some sort of whore."

"Rosalee," Monroe moved over to her, pulling the irate woman into a protective and comforting hug. "You know I'd never think of you like that."

"Oh for God's sake!" groaned Angelina, "Can we stop the lovey-dovey nonsense. Monroe, I need to tell you something important."

Monroe looked up to her, his eyes darting to her stomach as his face drained of colour. "You're not… p-pregnant, are you?" his voice quivered as his arms fell limply to his side.

The voices of the two women present were of an equal volume following his question, Rosalee's shrieked "What?!" clashing horribly against Angelina's howled "Are you saying I'm fat?!"

The next moment saw Rosalee diving out of the way as an enraged Angelina Woged and launched herself straight at the still pallid Monroe. The action seemed to startle the man out of his horror as he was forced to Woge himself in order to put up a passable defence against the raging Blutbad on top of him.

It was only when Rosalee Woged and tried to pull Angelina off Monroe that things finally calmed down. Angelina had easily brushed the Fuchsbau aside, but the distraction had given Monroe the opportunity he needed to gain his feet and pin Angelina's arms to her side.

"Ok," he panted, "so you're not pregnant. I wasn't calling you fat. I just assumed that only something like that would be serious enough for you to risk coming back here to talk to me about."

"We haven't been together in _months_, Monroe, MONTHS, if I was pregnant I'd be the size of a house by now!" she let out another growl of frustration as she changed her features back to human (the others having already done so). "Besides, when you hear the reason I'm here you'll wish I _was_ pregnant."

"So why are you here then?" Rosalee asked, eager to move the conversation away from Monroe's past sex life.

"I really need to talk to Monroe about this, alone," she pleaded, putting as much emphasis on the last word as she could.

"Whatever you have to say to me can be said in front of Rosalee," Monroe said definitively.

"Fine," Angelina replied before shrugging off his grasp and grabbing a bottle of wine from a nearby table. "I've been hired to kill you."

The response was immediate, the colour once again drained from Monroe's face while Rosalee Woged and growled threateningly at the much more dangerous canine Wesen. Angelina, on the other hand, simply pulled out the dossier she had been given by the Königschlange and tossed it to her former lover.

"What the hell?!" Monroe managed to splutter as he read the file. "Why does someone want me dead?" after a moments further thought he added, "Who could want me dead?"

"A Königschlange," Angelina replied, noticing as Monroe winced at her pronouncement. "And I don't know why, only that I'm getting paid twenty five thousand dollars to do it."

"And you didn't turn him down?" Monroe asked, suddenly wary of the woman in front of him.

"So he could hire someone else? Don't be an idiot," she spat back. "I thought you would want to know about this."

"I want more than to know. I want to know how the hell you got this job in the first place!" he bellowed out, he was getting angrier by the second. Some Wesen get scared when they're threatened, they want to run or hide. Not Blutbaden; when someone threatens them, their instinct is to tear a hole in its neck.

"It's a long and mostly irrelevant story," she waved him off, "all that matters is that they had a gun to my head and told me to take the job or die."

"Wait, there's more than one of them?" Rosalee interrupted.

"Yeah," Angelina replied, "he had a couple of Skalengeck with him. Well, only one now, but that doesn't matter."

"Angelina," Monroe said, drawing everyone's attention back to him, "did anyone tell you why they want me dead?"

"No," she sighed, "all they said was that I have twenty four hours to deliver your body to them. I thought I'd come over here and help you pack."

Monroe took a fortifying breath and straightened his back, lifting his chin up in an expression of pride, "I'm not going anywhere. I'm gonna find out who this guy is."

"You don't have time to start digging around into your past!" Angelina cried out as Monroe went over to his phone. "You need to leave."

"No, I'm calling Nick," Monroe stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Angelina hit him.

"You are _not_ calling the Grimm," she said, pointing her finger right at his face, her voice quivering slightly.

"He's a cop, Angelina," Monroe persisted, punching in the number, "he does this all the time."

"He also wants to put me in prison for a couple of Bauerschwein deaths, in case you've forgotten," she countered.

"This has nothing to do with you!" Monroe replied, "This is my life we're talking about!"

"Well good luck then," Angelina spat, as she went to move past him, "I'm getting out of here."

"No you're not!" Monroe caught her by the arm as Rosalee went and closed the door. "You're the one who saw them. You've gotta tell Nick what they look like."

"I'm not telling that Grimm a God-damn thing!" she shouted right in his face.

"Then why did you come here? If not to help! Why not just do the job and take the _verdammt_ money?"

Angelina growled and pushed him back, her eyes flashing red, "Maybe I will!"

Monroe's eyes flashed too as the two squared off, growing menacingly at one another.

"Oh for God's sake!" Rosalee pushed past the two growling Blutbaden and grabbed the phone. Hitting the call button, she had to wait for a while before Nick answered.

"Hey Nick," she said into the microphone, "it's Rosalee, would you be able to come over to Monroe's? It's kind of urgent."

The two Blutbaden exchanged a look, one glancing at the other in fear, the other with a sense of triumph.

"Yes it's important. Yes, now!" Rosalee's said angrily down the phone. "Fine, see you in five minutes."

Slamming the phone down, she turned to the two other Wesen, "He's on his way."

…~oOo~…

Somewhere along a quiet road, not too far from the precinct, officers Martin Granger and William Burns were doing a routine patrol in their police car when they saw a man waving frantically at them from the side of the road.

Once Granger had pulled over, Burns winded the window down and leant out towards the man.

"What's the problem?" he asked the obviously distressed man.

"I'm so glad you're here," the man started to babel, he had a slight Germanic accent but otherwise spoke perfectly good English, "I was just walking home from work when that man jumped me. Started hitting me, I thought he was going to kill me right there and then. But I couldn't let him do it, you understand?"

"Calm down, calm down," Burns said reassuringly as he and Granger got out of the car, "just tell me what's the situation, leave the how and why for later."

"Sure," the man seemed slightly relieved at that. "He's over here," he lead them over to a man lying on the floor, "I hit him on the side of the head and he went down like a ton of bricks."

Granger checked the downed man's pulse, "He's alive, we should call an ambulance and get you down to the station for a statement-"

The sound of Granger's voice prevented either of the officers from hearing the stealthy approach of two other men. By the time they realised anyone else was with them, it was already too late.

Wulfram and Markus, the Hundjägers, snapped the necks of the two police officers with ease and swiftly stripped and changed into the officer's clothes, the darkness keeping them hidden from any prying eyes.

"Why is it always me on the floor?" asked Dave the Hexenbiest as he picked himself up off the ground.

"Because you're English," answered Sieghard with a smirk, the nervousness having vanished completely from his voice, replaced with a tone of easy confidence. "You two," he nodded to the Hundjägers, now dressed as officers, "call in that you're bringing two witnesses from a mugging up to the station."

As the two dog-like Wesen went into the car to use the radio, Sieghard and Dave bundled the naked bodies of the two officers into the trunk of the police car.

…~oOo~…

Nick was not in the best of moods as he pulled up outside Monroe's house, his meal with Juliette had been going well. She had seemed to be genuinely interested in getting to know him again and for the first time in what felt like forever, he truly felt like things might go back to the way they were. Then Rosalee had had to call and ruin everything.

Fair enough, Juliette had said he should go, make sure everything was ok. But still, couldn't he just be left alone with her for just one night, was that too much to ask?

Seeing a bike parked outside Monroe's house, Nick let out a sigh, if Monroe was going through some sort of midlife crisis then there was absolutely no reason for the Blutbad to drag him into this. What was he doing having a midlife crisis anyway? He's not even that old!

Walking up to the door, Nick knocked and called out to the Blutbad inside.

"Hey Nick," Monroe said upon opening the door, he looked nervous, like _really_ nervous. "Sorry 'bout calling you out when you're doubtless busy. But you see… I have a bit of a problem."

"What's the problem, Monroe?" Nick sighed, still annoyed at having to cut his time with Juliette short. Now that he had gotten to spend some time with her, he'd realised just how hard it had been on him; with her being there but yet him being unable to tell or show her how he feels for fear of scaring her off, Unable to let her know just how deep his love for her goes.

"Well, there's no easy way to say this, so I'll just come out and say it," the Blutbad rocked backwards and forwards on his feet, as if trying to work himself up to say something really difficult. "Someone's trying to kill me."

"Someone's trying to what?" Nick asked, dumfounded.

"Kill me, yeah," Monroe seemed to deflate at having to repeat it.

"How do you know?" Nick switched from confused friend (albeit grouchy friend) to 'detective Nick Burkhardt, Grimm extraordinaire,' in a second, "have you received a death threat? Phone calls, letters, anything?"

"Well not exactly," Monroe's nervousness seemed to increase, "it was more personal."

"Did someone threaten you face to face?" Nick asked, genuinely concerned for the welfare of his friend.

"In a manner of speaking, yeah," Monroe said, making little sense and confusing the hell out of Nick, "You see the person who was hired to kill me, and I think you'll agree, this shows real character; this person actually told me that they were being offered twenty five thousand dollars to kill me."

As Monroe was talking, Nick heard a commotion down the hall and what sounded like Rosalee's voice saying "don't go in there."

"For God's sake, Monroe, tell him," none other than Angelina Lasser had just stepped into the room. In a heartbeat Nick's gun was in his hand, aimed straight at the fugitive Blutbad. "So you remember me, I'm touched."

"Put your hands behind your back," he said as he tried to move around the suddenly obstructive Monroe, "you're under arrest."

"Wait, Nick!" Monroe made sure he remained between the two as Rosalee placed a restraining hand on the Woging female Blutbad's shoulder. "She came here, she didn't have to do that. She told me about some guy who wants me dead."

Monroe's hands were clasped in front of him, his eyes wide and pleading, begging Nick not to do anything to Angelina, "I don't have anyone else to turn to. She didn't even want me to call you, but I said you'd overlook this little thing in her past and help us."

"By little thing you mean the murder of two innocent people!" Nick retorted.

"Details!" Monroe shouted back, "The thing is that there's like twenty three hours left before she's supposed to kill me. And I'd rather that not happen, regardless of whether or not she's wanted for murder."

"Nick," Rosalee butted in, as usual in these bizarre situations she was displaying a sort of calm authority, "If we don't work with Angelina then they'll just get someone else to come after Monroe, someone who will kill him. Don't waste this chance."

For a few seconds he just stared straight at the woman down the barrel of his pistol. Then, with a frustrated sigh, he holstered his weapon and looked away.

"Who wants him dead?" he asked once he regained his composure.

"A Königschlange," she replied. Stepping up so that she was next to Monroe, Rosalee swiftly inserted herself between the two.

"You got a name?" Nick asked exasperatedly.

"If I did we wouldn't have called you," she stated plainly, a slight hint of derision in her voice.

It was at that point that Rosalee's phone rang, her face draining of all colour acted as a cue for Monroe to detach himself from the conversation going on between Nick and Angelina (after all, it's not like they were discussing someone ordering a hit on him or anything like that…) so that he could comfort his clearly distressed-

_Wait a second_, Nick thought to himself, putting two and two together, _are Monroe and Rosalee dating now?_

The Grimm and the Blutbad just stood there for a moment, sizing each other up. During their staring/glaring match, Nick couldn't help but notice just how attractive Angelina actually was, her pale, well sculpted features and flowing, light auburn hair perfectly complimenting a flawless figure-

_Enough of that, Burkhardt!_ Nick mentally screamed at himself. Giving his head a vigorous shake to clear the mental dust bunnies that had seemingly accumulated there he resolved to never look at Angelina Lasser again.

"So when did this guy hire you?" he asked in an attempt to relieve himself of the sudden awkwardness that had overcome him. He positioned himself to look at the door, to make it seem like he was waiting for Monroe instead of staring at the murdering sexopath… psychopath even!

"Tonight," she responded flippantly.

"How did he find you?" Nick asked, his mind half on the matter at hand, half once again thinking about how long it had been since he'd had sex. _Honestly_, the thought to himself disgustedly, _it's like being a randy, sexually frustrated teenager all over again_!

"Let's see, I killed the guy he hired before me," she started, causing Nick to glance back at her, appalled that she had killed yet another person.

_Damn it_! He thought as he caught himself breaking the promise he had made to himself only moments before. To be honest it had been a stupid promise.

"So he decided that I'd do nicely and gave the job to me," she continued, finishing with an ironic smirk.

"Wait," Nick wanted to clarify something here, "you killed someone _else_ tonight?"

"He was trying to rape me!" she practically shouted out, "he didn't exactly leave me with much of a choice." Clearly the memory was not something she wanted being brought up, least of all by the Grimm intent on sticking her in jail. Although prison isn't the only place Nick would like to stick her… _Damn it again_!

"So you've killed what, three people now?" Nick asked, trying hard to distance his mind from the thoughts of doing anything to her other than handcuffing the _femme fatale_ Blutbad (thankfully Nick wasn't into anything kinky, so the idea of handcuffing her held no sexual connotations) and taking her down to the precinct.

"Three that you know of," she replied, somewhat threateningly, somewhat jokily.

Just as Nick was about to respond, Monroe and Rosalee returned to the room. The Fuchsbau had her coat on and seemed ready to leave.

"Rosie's mum just called," Monroe filled them in, "she's got to leave, family emergency and what not."

"Thanks for having me round Eddie," the small woman said to Monroe as she headed to the door, "I had a great time." With that she leaned up and kissed him on the corner of the mouth and went out of the door.

All was quiet for a few moments after the door closed before Nick and Angelina simultaneously spoke. "Eddie?" from Nick and "Rosie?" from Angelina, both of them sounded a mix of confused and slightly horrified (neither being into pet names).

"Well, yeah," Monroe shuffled about a bit, embarrassed by the incredulous stares he was receiving from the other two, "Rosie's a natural abbreviation of Rosalee and Eddie sounds a hell of a lot better than Edmund."

"Wait," Nick started, "your name's Edmund?"

"Well, yeah," the Blutbad shuffled uncomfortably, "why else would I want people to call me Monroe?"

"Point taken," Nick aquiested.

"Sounds like the name of some snivelling kid," Angelina put in, a wicked smirk on her face. Nick guessed that it was an on-going joke from when they were younger, Angelina probably knowing Monroe's first name from their time spent together.

"Didn't know you read, Angelina," Monroe replied happily, his smile indicating that Nick's hunch was correct. "Besides, it just means I'll be a hero later on."

"Alright, alright," Nick interrupted, deciding to break up the nostalgia-fest. "Monroe, did you know that she's killed someone else tonight?" he jabbed his thumb towards Angelina to emphasise the question.

The mood instantly became more sombre (as it should be when you have people hired to kill you) as Monroe considered his answer, "She killed the guy who was going to kill me. That's how she got the job, kinda by default."

"This doesn't fill me with confidence," Nick said sardonically.

"She has a phone from the guys," Monroe continued, beckoning for Angelina to hand over the phone.

Nick suddenly found his personal space far too full of attractive Blutbad. While he was fighting valiantly not to think about the fact that he found her attractive he couldn't help but notice that she actually smelled kind of nice (not like wet dog at all!), she had a sort of earthy scent that made him think of open forests and fresh air. Oh, and some sort of perfume he couldn't place, that too.

"They're gonna contact me tomorrow night and tell me where to deliver Monroe's body," she said as she handed Nick the device.

After a quick examination Nick made a frustrating discover, which he shared with the two Blutbaden, "It's a pre-paid, I can't trace it."

"Damn it!" Monroe cursed, "But can you see why we need you? I don't know who it is, she doesn't know who it is, and I don't even know who I pissed off to deserve this!"

"Well you must have pissed someone off at some point," Nick reasoned, "Right now, we need to get you some place safe to wait this out." He turned his attention to Angelina (focus on the task at hand ridding his mind of any untoward thoughts) "And I need you to show me where you met these guys."

"And how do I know you won't arrest me as soon as we're out the door?" she shot back, clearly still worried about the idea of prison.

"Because that wouldn't serve any purpose in helping Monroe," he fired back just as quickly, "for now I'm not interested in bringing you in. I'm just here to help a friend."

After a brief pause to glare up at him, Angelina informed him that she had met the various reptilian Wesen at or near the End Up Bar, which was a few miles north of where they were now.

"Well I'm glad you two are able to set aside your differences for me," Monroe said, trying to ease the tension, "I'm actually kind of touched."

"Don't be," Angelina rebuked him, "it's not over yet."

…~oOo~…

**A.N. **Ok everyone, I hope you're enjoying how this is panning out so far. Rest assured that there is more where that came from.

I wouldn't be at all upset if you were to drop a review before calling it a night ;-)


	3. On the Road

**Disclaimer**

When I approached the organisation known as the Reapers to hire their services to help me obtain the rights to Grimm, I was informed that they would not help me for any amount of money as my complete lack of influence over their parent organization (NBC) meant they were honour bound to stop me. Needless to say, I still don't own Grimm and now sport several new scars that look strangely like scythe slashes and one most peculiar bite mark…

**Shout-outs**

Thank you all so much for supporting this story so far. This chapter's shout-outs go to those who have followed, favoured, and/or reviewed since the last chapter. This chapter goes out to lucky713, OutlawKnight, D Squirrel, lillinfields, raiton123, dpackrat, ThreeBulletsAtTheDangerParad e, Foxface9, Truthisfreedom, and Custom stories and co.

**So far…**

Mia Gaudot, a member of one of the seven Royal families, is in Portland with designs on the lives of Monroe and Nick. However, unbeknownst to her, Angelina has gotten herself caught up in the whole mess and given Monroe a possible escape clause. Our intrepid heroes have had plenty of time to argue about who killed who and are seemingly prepared to sort out the little issue of Monroe having a price on his head.

…~oOo~…

**Chapter Three – On the Road**

"For God's sake, Monroe," Angelina shouted out as she once again checked in on the progress of Monroe packing his 'overnight' bag. "You are not bringing a clock to the safe-house!"

"Two things," Monroe replied with a frown, "firstly; it is not a 'safe-house.' We are going to Hank's house so that I can stay somewhere with guns until all this stuff blows over. Secondly; this is my great great great great Grandfather's baritone cuckoo clock. It was carved in 1862, made from wood from the black forest. Not only is it unique, it's a God-damn antique! There is no way I'm leaving it behind."

"And there's no way I could possibly persuade you to leave it here?" she asked. She had always known that Eddie Monroe was a bit weird (he did go Weider, afterall) but this obsession he had with clocks was pushing the limit. She leant against the door frame, striking a feminine pose with her arms crossed just under her chest, accentuating her bosom. Lifting a seductive brow, she turned her head _just so_, giving her that sort of alluring look which would enthral a normal man.

Monroe was not a normal man. "There's nothing you can say that will make me leave it here to be destroyed if someone else comes after me." _Damn him, _Angelina dropped the stance and scowled.

"Fine," she strolled purposefully into the room and snatched the clock out of the sports-bag Monroe had been trying to gently fit it into, "leave it here, or I'll smash it. Understand?"

The Wieder Blutbad looked at her in horror, his eyes wide and mouth hanging open. He seemed unable to comprehend the idea of somebody willingly committing such a heinous crime against artistry and innovation as destroying this prodigy of clock design. To save his clock from certain death he shouted out the one word that could save it…

"Nick!" he shrieked out.

"What is it, Monroe?" the Grimm answered as he rushed up the stairs. He had his hand on his gun (still mercifully holstered at his side) and was glancing between the two Blutbaden. His face clouded with worry. Clearly he had taken Monroes frantic shriek seriously.

"She's trying to-" Monroe started before being cut off.

"Monroe wants to take his clock with him," Angelina said tiredly.

"The baritone cuckoo?" Nick asked back, face deadly serious.

"How the hell did you know that?" Angelina asked at the same time as Monroe blurted out a "Yes!"

"Understandable," Nick nodded along with the situation. "I'll grab a bigger bag from downstairs to put it in."

Angelina stood, dumfounded, as the Grimm turned and walked out of the room. There was no way that the Grimm, confirmed killer of at least three Reapers to date and the scourge of criminal Wesen all over Portland, was into something as loserish as clocks.

"Did that just happen, seriously?" she asked rhetorically as Monroe grabbed the clock from her hands to clutch it protectively against his chest.

"Nick understands just how much sentimental value this piece has to me," Monroe told her honestly.

"Yeah," said the Grimm as he entered the room with a much more suitable bag, "and let's not forget that it's the quirkiest time piece to come out of the nineteenth century!"

Angelina just rolled her eyes and made her way to the door, "This is just too weird. I'll be downstairs, when you're ready." She didn't notice as the two males did a high-five behind her back.

…~oOo~…

The two Hundjägers dressed up as police officers walked straight into the precinct with their two 'witnesses.' All through their Verrat training, the members of the team had been taught that looking like you belong somewhere makes detection less likely. In their stolen uniforms, with lean, well-muscled frames, firm postures, and unworried looks on their faces, Wulfram and Markus looked like the archetypal police officers.

Nobody paid them more than a passing glance as they casually lead Sieghard and Dave towards the stairs. Surreptitiously glancing at a floor plan on the wall, the two disguised Hundjägers found their target; the records department.

Walking up to the floor which housed the personnel records, the four Verrat agents encountered neither resistance nor suspicion (the advantage of the precinct being so large).

Upon reaching their destination they walked straight up to the desk of the woman on duty.

"How can I help you, officers?" she asked in a bored tone. A quick flick of her eyes towards the two non-officers with them caught her suspicion. "Is there something wrong?"

"Yes," Wulfram said with a smile, drawing her attention as Markus pulled out his silenced pistol, "you're in the way."

A shot to the head and they were in.

"Remember," Sieghard said calmly as they walked past the body of the woman, carefully making sure he didn't leave footprints by stepping in the blood that was pooling around her, "the file we need is that of Nick Burkhardt."

After a few minutes of searching, it was Dave the Hexenbiest who found Detective Burkhardt's file, which contained his address, phone numbers, and an assortment of other bits of potentially useful information.

…~oOo~…

"Thanks for doing this, Hank. I really appreciate it," Nick said to his partner, who was currently loading his shotgun.

"Me too," Monroe seconded.

"No problem guys," Hank said as he moved onto checking his pistol (it was always best to be prepared when people hiring assassins were involved). "After all the crazy stuff we've been through, it's the least I could do to help."

"Excellent," Nick's face was graced with its first genuine smile since he had been at his house earlier that night. "I've got a lead that I'm going to chase down; hopefully it'll shed some light on this mess. Until then we just need to keep Monroe safe."

"Ok, well call me as soon as you know anything," Hank replied before turning to Monroe. "How're you taking it?"

"Hard," the Blutbad admitted, a slight slump in his shoulders, "I haven't been this stressed in… well ever, to be honest."

"Want to have a drink?" Hank asked him, "I sure as hell could use one."

"It's like you read my mind," Monroe grinned.

Leaving his two friends to get settled for a night of drinking, talking and pointing guns at the doorway, Nick headed back to his car where a much less friendly Blutbad awaited him.

"So you're sure Monroe will be safe here?" Angelina asked the second he got in the driver's seat. Somehow the question managed to sound mocking instead of concerned.

"Yes," he answered curtly, but noticing her scowl decided to elaborate. "Hank's had experience dealing with Wesen before, if anyone can look after Monroe, its Hank. Plus, I doubt any would-be assassin would think to look for Monroe there."

He pulled out of Hank's driveway and started heading in the direction that the End Up Bar was purportedly in. Glancing down, he noticed that the clock read 23:54, and after a full day's work he realised he was in no condition to start investigating a crime scene in the dark. Besides, it might seems suspicious if he showed up to the scene before the local authorities had a chance to take a look at it.

Deciding that he needed sleep, but was completely unwilling to have Angelina anywhere near his house, Nick cycled through his memory for the nearest hotel and adjusted the route he was taking accordingly.

"Monroe seems convinced that you'll find this guy," Angelina said, her voice sounding light and conversational as she looked out of the window. "I'm not convinced."

"Well maybe if you try to be useful and tell me why somebody would want to kill Monroe then I'll have a better chance," he retorted in an equally pleasant tone.

"They wouldn't tell me," she snapped out in exasperation, "I'm sure I've told you that before. What sort of Detective are you if you can't remember something as simple as that? It's a miracle you ever figured out the Bauerschwein case."

"Hey," he snapped back, annoyed at her calling his ability to do his job into question, "I'll have you know that I've solved loads of ludicrously convoluted plots and seemingly unsolvable murders. As far as these things go, the Bauerschwein case was relatively easy."

"Easy there _de-tec-tive_," she sounded out each of the syllables mockingly, "you're head's starting to swell."

"Very funny," Nick ground out, glaring at the road ahead of him.

"Anyway, where the hell are we going?" she asked him, thankfully changing the subject, "the End Up Bar is that way," she pointed somewhere to the right.

"We can't just show up at the scene before local law enforcement has at least looked over the scene, it would be too suspicious," he informed her, reciting the things he had told himself when he had decided on his present course of action. "Besides, I don't know about you, but I need sleep to function properly, and solving assassination attempts will definitely require all of my mental faculties to be in good shape."

"Great," the Blutbad said sarcastically, "I guess I'll just stay in the car while you snuggle up with whatever dumb broad you have waiting for you at home."

"Hey!" Nick shouted out, offended, "first off, I don't have some '_dumb broad_' waiting for me at home." _Now isn't that a depressing thought_, the highly pessimistic part of his brain whispered, _I doubt Juliette is waiting for you at all, let alone to 'snuggle_.'

Shaking his head to clear himself of the unwelcome thoughts he ploughed on, "and secondly, we're not even going to my house, I don't trust you to be anywhere near it. No, we're going to a hotel; we'll head up to the bar in the morning."

"Easy there, big boy," Angelina purred, a wicked gleam in her eyes and a sly smirk on her lips, "I don't usually let that happen till the second date."

"Wah…?" Nick's mind momentarily went blank, then was filled with all the sordid implications of what the highly attractive woman (_stop that_! he told himself) sitting next to him had said. Amidst all the saucy images he couldn't think of something like 'this isn't a date' or 'in your dreams' that would have prevented him seeming like an idiot. Instead all he managed was, "the _second_ date?"

Angelina laughed, the sound was rich and melodious, but couldn't be called sweet. "Well most girls go for the third," she leaned over slightly and winked at him, before continuing in a low, seductive tone, "but I'm not most girls."

Nick turned towards her, his deep grey eyes locking with her vibrant hazel ones. Enthralled by the moment he found himself itching to lean forward, to capture her rosy lips in his… that was, until the blaring of a car horn reminded him that he was meant to be driving.

Lurching back to the wheel, he swerved violently to avoid driving straight into the oncoming traffic.

He let out a few choice swear words as they approached a set of traffic lights. Next to him Angelina was seemed to be having a fit of hysterics.

"That was _hilarious_!" She managed to say between bouts of laughter, "you men are all the same. Mention something even slightly sex related and you'll forget whatever you're doing to drop your pants."

Despite resolutely not looking at her, favouring to stare out of the windscreen as if to make up for his lack of attention earlier, he knew that right now a large and utterly to alluring grin would be plastered across her face. _Damn woman_!

Nick took off immediately as the light turned green, lost in his own thoughts as he ignored Angelina's laughing and ramblings about the myriad failings of men. _There is _NO WAY_ that I am falling for her_, he told himself sternly, _she hasn't even _done_ anything to warrant anything other than dislike and suspicion_. _It was just a lapse, a moment of weakness brought on by my memory loss induced dry spell with Juliette_.

Happy that he had successfully explained away his earlier lapse, Nick pulled into the car park of one of those generic brand hotels. Together he and Angelina went up to the front desk where one of the eternally chipper receptionists was smiling benignly at them.

Nick didn't really bother listening to the welcoming spiel the receptionist must have rote learned to receive the job. He stood at the desk and waited patiently for the receptionist to finish telling them all of the great deals they had on at the moment. _Maybe I should have gone for a motel_, he mused to himself, _much easier_.

"Hi there," Nick smiled as he leant upon the desk when the receptionist had stopped talking, "we'll be needing-"

"A double room," Angelina cut in suddenly, she smiled radiently up at him as she wrapper her hands around his arm, Nick noticed the wicked glint in her eyes was back. _Damned woman_! he had wanted to get two single rooms.

"Of course," the receptionist replied, still with that annoyingly pleasant smile, "what name should I put you under?"

"Burkhardt," he replied instantly, forcing himself to smile and not jerk away from Angelina (she had now moved one hand down to pinch his bum). He had been tempted to say Lasser for a moment, but her status as a wanted fugitive made that a rather bad idea.

A few moments and some more irritating pleasantries later and they had their room number and key. Upon reaching their room, he realised grumpily that he hadn't brought any clothes to change into tomorrow.

To add insult to injury, it seemed that Angelina had prepared for the eventuality of her being away from wherever she lived these days (then again it might not be so surprising given her lifestyle) and was carrying a bag that most likely contained all she needed for a good night sleep and a change of clothes in the morning.

"So why did you ask for a double room?" Nick asked once the door was closed and locked behind them, despite his best efforts he couldn't help but feel somewhat _hopeful_ as he asked the question.

"To see you squirm," she said simply as she leaned back on the bed in a way that showed off her figure nicely. It seemed that at some point she had taken off her jacket as her upper body was now only covered by a tight white top.

Nick felt like squirming right now. Forcing his gaze from her ample bosom he managed to grind out, "seems a lot of trouble just to get under my skin."

"What trouble?" she asked with a wicked smirk. She then proceeded to pull off her shirt in one deft motion, showcasing her extraordinarily well toned stomach, creamy skin, and ludicrously skimpy lace bra.

Nick, already unable to think of something suitably witty to say as a result of that little action was left utterly speechless at what she did next; namely, pulling off her leather pants to reveal a lacy thong that rivalled her bra in skimpiness.

"Eyes off, big boy," she said saucily as she pulled an honest to God onesie out of her bag. Her hand reached up behind her back towards the clasp of her bra before stopping as she raised a questioning brow at the still staring Detective. "Shouldn't you call you girlfriend, you know, tell her you're in a hotel with another woman or something?"

_Damn it_! He'd completely forgotten to apprise Juliette of the situation with Monroe.

"How did you know about her?" Nick asked her. He sure as hell hadn't told Angelina about his relationship situation, and surely Monroe wouldn't do something as stupid as tell her about Juliette.

"Facebook," she replied simply.

"My account is set to private!" Nick countered immediately.

"I hacked Monroe's account," she shot back.

"Ignoring the fact that that's technically a cyber-crime," Nick said reproachfully, "how did you do that? I didn't know you were tech savvy."

"I'm not," she said honestly, "but Monroe's password was easy to guess; it's 'Freiburg' if you're wondering."

Shaking his head and swiftly turning on his heel he went into the bathroom and locked the door (he didn't trust Angelina not to walk in and say something that would get him in trouble with Juliette otherwise).

After four rings she answered her phone, "Hi Nick." Her voice was like music to his ears, and once again, as many times before in the past few weeks, he felt the pang of love and loss in his heart.

"Juliette, sorry if I woke you up-" he started off with an apology, aware of the lateness of the hour.

"You did," she replied flatly, "but its ok. Is Monroe alright?"

He forced down the feeling of jealously, _of course she'd be worried about Monroe_. "Yeah, he's ok for now. He received a pretty serious threat tonight, so I took him to Hank's while I deal with the situation."

"Why are you dealing with it?" she asked, suspicion thick in her voice. "Have you told anyone down at the precinct about this?"

"No," Nick admitted glumly, realising all too well where this conversation was headed. "It's a little too delicate to risk going through official channels." He braced himself for the verbal lashing he was about to get.

"Nick, are you a gangster?"

Ok, so he hadn't been expecting that!

"A gangster?" he asked in disbelief, "of course not! What gave you that idea?"

"It was something Bud said," she replied, still sounding highly accusing, "I talked to him the other day about-"

"I know," Nick interrupted, a slight bite in his voice, "I talked to him about it."

"You were talking about me behind my back?!" Juliette shrieked down the phone. Nick mentally kicked himself for mentioning he had talked to Bud about the Eisbiber's conversation with Juliette. "No wonder I thought you were keeping things from me! What the hell is going on, Nick?"

Gritting his teeth and exerting all his effort into not punching the bathroom mirror, Nick forced himself to answer her, knowing that he couldn't tell her what she wanted to know, especially not over the phone. "I can't tell you right now, Juliette. You just need to trust me on this."

"How can you expect me to trust you when I don't even know you?" she spat back, her words wounding Nick as if he had been physically struck. "You know what, forget it. See you when you get back."

Nick just stood there, holding back tears as the phone went dead. He just stood there for a good five minutes as he willed himself not to either break down or blow up into a rage. Eventually, once he had calmed himself down enough to be able to think moderately straight he remembered that a wanted murderer was in the next room, relatively defenceless.

The first thing that ran through his mind was to draw his weapon and arrest her, thus ending her habit of shamelessly killing people who got in her way. The second thought was to draw his weapon and shoot the bitch, thus ending her habit of shamelessly killing people who got in her way permanently (part of him was rather concerned about thinking this). The third thought was to not draw his weapon, but instead lose all vestiges waist down, then go in to the room, bend her over the bed and…

Coming to the realisation that he _still _wasn't thinking straight, Nick decided it was high time for him to take a cold shower.

…~oOo~…

A few wet, cold minutes later and Nick finally felt sane enough to go back into the room with Angelina Lasser. Stepping out of the shower and shivering as the air touched his drenched skin he swiftly towelled himself off and got dressed (resigned to having to wear the same underwear for at least two days in a row).

Walking into the room he found the murderous blutbad laying right in the middle of the spacious double bed. She smirked up at him from under the hood of the onesie designed to look like a sheep. The irony was not lost on Nick, _wolf in sheep's clothing indeed_.

"Hey stranger," she said, "you took your sweet time. Were you having phone sex?"

Nick scowled at her, still sore over Juliettes parting words. She simply laughed at his sour expression.

"Clothes off, Detective," she said with a grin, sitting up in the bed.

"What?" Nick squeaked out in surprise, his voice much too high for his liking. Purposefully lowing his voice (making it much deeper than usual) he continued, "why would I do that."

"Well I don't know about you," she replied easily, still grinning as she dropped her voice turning it into a sultry purr, "but I can't stand getting into bed with my pants on."

As seemed to be the state of things recently, Nick was in two minds. One side of him was frantically screaming _OH GOD YES!_ At as loud as it could, while the other one (that sounded much like Admiral Ackbar from Star Wars) was telling him resolutely in a most assured tone that _it's a trap_.

The Juliette situation, which he usually used as reasoning for not thinking about or looking at other women was currently working against him; her harsh words making him _want_ to lash out and do something utterly relationship destroying just to spite her.

Coming to a compromise, Nick started pulling off his shirt and pants, albeit carefully and making sure he was watching Angelina for any sudden moves. For her part, the Blutbad simply sat back, watching him slowly reveal more of his well-muscled body. Her eyes glinted with what Nick was tempted to call hunger, but without getting closer he couldn't tell.

Eventually he was down to his underpants and socks. Taking a deep breath he tucked his thumb under the waistband before stopping, part of his conscious (and the '_it's a trap_' voice) telling him not to take the next step.

Deciding that just stopping would be completely unreasonable (he had just undressed in front of a devastatingly attractive woman after all) he decided to put the ball in her court, so to speak. With what he had been told (by Juliette among others) was his 'sexy smirk' and a slightly lifted eyebrow, he dared her to make the next move.

"Very nice, Detective," she growled and bit her lip lightly, her eyes seeming to darken. She got up out of the bed and walked around towards where he stood by the wardrobe. Her hips swaying seductively (somehow she made even onesies look dirty).

She was now only a scant few inches away from him, her eyes perusing him leisurely. "Very nice," she repeated, "but as I said earlier; second date."

With that she reached into the wardrobe and pulled out a spare blanket. Pushing it into his startled arms she turned around and hopped back into bed. "You can sleep on the couch tonight."

She grinned at the sight of his murderous expression, "of course, I could have let you in the bed, but after that I just can't trust you not to cop a feel."

Nick, furious at her, and himself for falling for her malicious ploy; stalked moodily over to the couch by the window. _Damn woman!_

"Nighty-night, Detective," Angelina said before turning off the lights with another melodious laugh.

Nick stared into the darkness, resigned to an utterly miserable night of reflecting bitter on all that had happened over the past day.

…~oOo~…

_Meanwhile in Rome_…

Two men walked through one of the more deserted wings of the Vatican, one dressed in the rich reds of a Cardinal, the other in a flowing black cloak with the hood pulled up over his head.

"Your Eminence," the cloaked man said to the Cardinal, his thick accent and the language he was speaking both distinctly French. "The order has received news that one of the Keys has been found in Portland, Oregon."

"Found you say?" Replied the Cardinal, he spoke with a gentle Italian accent, "by whom?"

"That is the question of the hour, your Eminence," replied the man. "It appears that a rogue Grimm is in possession of the key. We believe the holder to be of the Kessler line."

"I am not familiar with the name, François, do enlighten me."

"The Kessler clan has been operating primarily in the United States for several generations. Although we lost contact with them after an attack in 1994; which we believe was orchestrated by the Dragon' Tongue organization," François informed the Cardinal, "we believed them to have been eliminated until recently."

"Then I suppose the question is what should we do about this Grimm," the Cardinal said calmly.

"We already have an agent in the area, a Lebensauger called Ryan Smulson," François replied. "He's been monitoring the increase of Reaper activity in the area. He also believes that there may be a Royal operating in the area."

"That is most concerning," the Cardinal let out a sigh, "and he told you of the Key?"

"No, he doesn't know about it. We intercepted a message from Mia Gaudot to her family. She said that the exiled prince has located a key. She has gone to the United States, I assume to acquire the Key."

"Who is this 'exiled prince' she speaks of?"

"We believe she is referring to Sean Renard. He is currently a captain in the Portland Police Department."

"The half-breed?" asked the Cardinal, genuinely interested, "most interesting. I imagine he has his own ideas of what to do with this Kessler Grimm and his key. I recommend sending more agents into the area."

"I shall see who I can spare," replied François, "but our efforts to stall the Gaudot's in Japan have left us stretched thin. If the situation deteriorates I shall have Smulson take action."

"I understand. We cannot risk a Royal victory in Japan. There are only two keys left unclaimed by either us or the Verrat. And now both of them are to be contested. We cannot attempt to find one and in doing so lose the other."

"Of course, your Eminence."

"Then that is all, François," the Cardinal said as they both came to a stop. François putting on the dark metal mask of the Endezeichen Grimms. "The _Sterbestunde_ approaches."

"And the _Endezeichen_ stand ready," replied the masked Grimm as he about faced and vanished down one of the many winding corridors.

…~oOo~…

**A.N.** A very big thank you to all of you for waiting so patiently for this chapter to come out (I hope it didn't disappoint). Unfortunately life got in the way of writing for the past couple of months, but I'm back now so all is well =D.

As many of you may have noticed I am trying to do something to make my disclaimers section genuinely interesting/funny. If anyone would like to help me in this quest, please leave your own disclaimer in a review and I'll use the best one in the next chapter =).

Don't forget to tell me what you thought of this chapter.

Until next time

Blddmn.


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